Russia's Misfortunate Laps in Judgement
by Hyper4Hetalia
Summary: Feeling that his relationship with Canada is getting nowhere, Russia turns to the first person he see's for help: Prussia. Things start to go wrong when Prussia suggests taking Russia out on a mock date for 'practice' and Canada and Hungary follow along.
1. Chapter 1

Russia was starting to regret this. Really, regret this. It was just his luck that when he was in a fragile state of mind and looking for some sort of help, _any_ kind of help, the first person to stumble along his path had happened to be the annoying, self-center albino called Prussia. As soon as the man had offered his assistance, Russia should have immediately declined… but he had been desperate.

The whole thing had gone something like this:

_ Russia was making his way down a long dirt path, wandering aimlessly. It was still relatively early in the morning, but he was still trying to shake off what had occurred between himself and Canada previously the night before. All he had wanted was a kiss, but as soon as he came close to the little country, Canada had ducked away from him, murmuring something under his breath about having a cold and not wanting to spread germs. If it had been a one-time occurrence, the tall Russian man probably would have let it go, but Canada had been avoiding him for nearly two weeks now. What was he doing wrong…?_

_ "Well hello there, Herr Russia." Came a semi-familiar voice with a slightly irritating German accent. "What are you up to this morning?" Prussia stepped out from around a tree, his blood-red eyes glinting mischievously._

_ "I am taking a walk," Russia said slowly, as though it should be obvious._

_ Prussia raised an eyebrow, a cool smirk tugging at his pale lips. "Oh really?" he mused, taking a step toward Russia and walking around him in a slow circle, his piercing red gaze slowly traveling up and down the other man. "Because to me, it looks like you've got something on your mind."_

_ Russia stayed silent, simply staring at the boy._

_ "I'm right, aren't I?" Prussia shouted suddenly, beaming. "Well, of course I'm right! I'm _awesome,_ aren't I?"_

_ Russia rolled his light lavender eyes. "If you have a point, Mr. Prussia, please get to it." He said in his calm, sweet voice, though there was a warning tone behind his words._

_ "Weeeeeeeeell," the albino purred, shifting cheerfully from foot to foot. "I was thinking that I could help you out with whatever's going on."_

_ It was Russia's turn to raise an eyebrow. "And why would you do that?" he asked cautiously, wondering what reason the self-serving Prussia could have for helping _him.

_"What?" the other boy looked hurt. "Can't a guy help another fella out sometime without getting interrogated about it?" he turned his back to him, as though to walk away. "Whatever, I guess a capable country like you can take care of things on hi-"_

_ "Wait." Russia cut him off. "Fine, maybe you can help."_

_ Prussia laughed after Russia had explained to him his dilemma. "That's it?" he laughed. "Your problem is easily solved, mein freund."_

_ "It is?" Russia asked, his innocent-looking eyes widening._

_ "Suuure!" the other boy chuckled. "All you have to do is spice up the love life a little, make things more interesting. Take lil'Mattie out on a really special date, to start with."_

_ "A… date." Russia repeated, the word tasting strange and foreign on his tongue. "But I've never been on a… date. I would not know what to do."_

_ Prussia covered his mouth with his hand, smothering a snicker between his long, pale fingers. "Never been on a date?" he asked incredulously. "Well, I can still solve that." He stood. "I'll pick you up at eight."_

_ Before Russia could argue, the albino had disappeared back into the foliage._

And that was how he got here. Sitting in a crowded movie theater. With _Prussia, _of all people. According to the albino's plans, he would show Russia what a real date was like, and the next night Russia would take Canada on a similar date, now that he would know what to do.

But what Russia didn't know, was that this had all been a set-up. An hour or so before leaving to pick up Russia, Prussia has updated his Facebook status to 'Going out on a date with Russia'. Since he and Canada were close friends, he was sure he would get the update. A date wasn't really what Russia needed- he needed to make Canada jealous enough to make him realize how much he loved Russia. At least, in Prussia's slightly—(okay, maybe more than 'slightly') –insane mind, that was what he believed the solution to be.

Canada snuck into the back of the movie theater, scanning the back of heads before them. Almost immediately he recognized Russia's pale hair, as well as Prussia's unmistakably bright white hair beside him. "I can't believe it…" he whispered. "I… I thought maybe that status had been a joke."

Beside him, Hungary gripped the handle of her frying pan furiously. "That… that bastard!" she screeched, though somehow managed to keep the sound quiet, not wanting their cover blown. She and Prussia weren't officially dating, but he had taken her on some dates before. She knew he was bi, and she had accepted that, but… she couldn't believe he would do something like _this_ to her!

"I'm sorry, Hungary," Canada looked down, his eyes filling with tears. "But when I saw the status… I just thought you should know."

Hungary wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "No, I'm glad I found out before I wasted too much time on him." She whispered, blinking when she felt her eyes stinging. No… she had to comfort Canada right now. She would have time to take care of herself later.

Prussia feigned a yawn and slowly stretched an arm around Russia's shoulders, smirking slightly and biting back a snicker. He had known that Canada would follow him, but it never occurred to him that Canada would bring Hungary with him (and he still didn't realize that she was there). He leaned in toward Russia, playfully nuzzling his cheek.

Russia's spine went rigid. "What are you doing?" he asked stiffly.

"Showing you what you need to do to Canada tomorrow night," Prussia purred, turning his head ever so slightly, licking and nibbling at Russia's earlobe.

Hungary's eyes narrowed dangerously, remembering how Prussia had done that to her not just the night before. How many other people had he done this to? Was he really too much of a man-whore to keep his hands on just one person at a time?

"Do… do you think Russia likes that?" Canada whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself. He never did those kinds of things to Russia. He was just too shy sometimes! Is that why he was here with Prussia? Because the confident albino wasn't afraid to take control of a situation and take things further than Canada would ever even dream of?

"Germany! Germany, look!" Italy said excitedly, tugging on his boyfriend's sleeve. "Its our friends!"

"Was zur Hölle?" Germany's eyebrows furrowed. "What are Russia and Prussia doing here together? And why are Hungary and, uhm, uh…"

"Canada-san," Japan interjected quietly from his other side, his head resting on the sleeping Greece's shoulder (the four of them were on a double-date).

"Yes, that's it!" Germany amended quickly. "Why are Hungary and Canada hiding behind that row of seats over there?"

"Maybe they came to bring us PASTA!" Italy suggested happily, only to be shushed by a grouchy old woman sitting in the row of seats in front of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all! Just thought I'd make a not that I do not own Hetalia 'cause I kind of forgot to say it last chapter * cough cough... yeah, forgot... cough* **

**Also, little bit of a warning for Romano's language!**

**Please review! Review! Revieeewwww! Or I'll send Russia and Prussia after you! Hahahahaha!**

Chapter 2

"Fucking potato bastard... taking my brother out to see this shit..."

"Ah, Lovi~! Why can't you just relax and enjoy the movie? Isn't it set in your country?"

Romano tore his furious yellow eyes away from the place where his twin was sitting with Germany and glared at the Spaniard that he had dragged with him on his mission to spy on the couple.

"How am I supposed to _relax_ with that bastard all over my fratello? And these idiots aren't in my country, they're in Feli's territory. Dammit! Is that why Germany took him to see this piece of shit movie? He's fuckin' checking out my fratello's vital regions!"

"Shh!" An old woman sitting behind the two countries leaned forward, her elbows digging into their shoulders. "Are you two here to watch the movie or are you here to talk?" she hissed.

Romano turned around and shot the woman a death glare, his mouth already opening to unleash a stream of swear words.

"Uh, lo siento, señora," Spain interjected quickly. "We'll be quieter now, I promise!"

The old woman turned her glare to Spain and nodded slowly.

"You had better," she growled before settling back in her seat.

"What the hell?" Romano snarled. "Who does she think she is, my boss?" He swore as a hand smacked against the back of his head and turned to glare at the older woman. She smirked at him and turned back to the movie, supposedly ignorant of the death threats that the Italian was now hissing in her direction.

"Lovi~," Spain whispered mournfully. "Please be nice! Why can't we just enjoy our date?"

"_This isn't a date dammit!_"

"Hey, dude, can you shut up?" America's voice whispered in the Italian's ear, causing Romano to jump. "We're trying to stalk my little bro's psychopath boyfriend!"

"Join the club," Romano grumbled. "I'm sure Spagna could make us t-shirts."

"I could!" The Spaniard piped up eagerly. "But, wait, Germany isn't a psychopath, Lovi."

"How do you know? You're always so absorbed by those damn turtles of yours, you don't even notice anyone else!"

"Oh Lovi~ There's no need to be jealous of Señor Tortuga!"

America burst out laughing, ignoring the furious shushing that was now being tossed in his direction by the furious old woman. "Dude, you have a turtle named Tortuga? That's awesome!"

"Will you shut up, you bloody wanker?" A British accent snapped as England slipped quietly into the seat beside America, his large eyebrows furrowed over flashing green eyes. "You'll blow our cover."

"Iggy!" America cried out, only to hastily lower his voice at the glare that the Brit sent his way. "You came!" he added in a whisper.

"Of course, idiot," England grumbled, his cheeks reddening slightly at the sight of America's pleased smile. "I need to see if Matthew is alright... Bloody hell, Prussia can't keep his hands off of Russia, can he?"

"Prussia's here?" Romano groaned and slammed his hand against his forehead. "Dammit.. another potato bastard... wait, why is he here with Russia? Aren't Prussia and Hungary a couple? And isn't Russia with that other country... what's his name?"

"Canada," America snapped through gritted teeth. "Matthew Williams, my little brother."

"Oh yeah... why isn't he here with Russia?"

"Because that commie bastard is obviously cheating on him!" America growled, forgetting England's warning to be silent. "He's using poor innocent Mattie just so my little bro will become one with him! Dammit, I don't want Mattie to be a communist!"

"Shut the hell up, Alfred!" England hissed. "You'll give us away! We won't be able to help Matthew at all if you keep acting like this."

Romano snorted and looked away from the now-pouting American, his cat eyes locking once again on his brother and the German bastard. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.

Oh no. Oh _hell_ no. Germany did _not_ have his arm around Italy's shoulders.

"Damn potato bastard," Romano growled. This was going to be a long movie...

"Ve~ I really like this movie, Germany! It has pasta in it and Italian girls!"

Germany smiled down at his Italian boyfriend, his blue eyes tightening ever-so-slightly at the mention of the Italian girls. Why did Feliciano always have to bring girls into the conversation?

"I'm glad you are enjoying it," he murmured, smiling in satisfaction when the petite country snuggled closer in his embrace.

"Ve~ don't you like it, Germany?"

Germany frowned, wondering where this was going. "Ja, it is fine."

"Then why do you keep looking behind you all the time? Are you bored?"

Germany frowned and shook his head, trying to soothe the anxious Italian. It was true that he had been staring at Prussia and Russia out of shock for most of the first 15 minutes of the movie... had that been too much? Would Italy be offended now? He hadn't seen anything against looking around the theater in the book that he had read about dating... then again, perhaps the situation was different when you discovered that your older brother was also in the theater apparently on a date with an insanely scary Russian?

"I'm sorry, Italy," he whispered, trying not to disturb any of the others in the theater, although apparently some of the other viewers didn't have such qualms... "Did I offend you?"

The Italian laughed and pressed his lips briefly to the German's cheek, his hazel eyes bright.

"Ve~ of course not, Germany! Are we going to go out for pasta after this?"

Germany rolled his eyes, not even bothering to fight the smile that rose to his lips.

"Ja, I suppose we can," he murmured, earning himself another kiss from the excited Italian.

Japan watched his two former allies, his brow furrowing delicately at their open displays of affection. Were such displays acceptable in such society? Then again, they were watching a movie in America... should he attempt such things with Greece, or would that be too forward?

Japan turned to speak to his Greek boyfriend, only to find that the dark haired man was already asleep, his tangled brown hair splayed cutely across his peaceful face. _He was so cute..._

The Asian country's cheeks reddened at his indecent thoughts and he hastily turned back to the movie, although he couldn't help but lightly clasp the Greek's hand in his as he did so.

Perhaps he had been spending a little too much time with France-san...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Do you _see_ that, Spain!" Romano demanded in an urgent whisper, not wanting to be struck by the old lady again. "That potato bastard is hanging all over Feliciano!"

"Dude, actually, I think its the other way around." American interjected helpfully, earning him a sharp glare from the angry Italien.

"Lovi, how many times must I tell you," the handsome brunette tossed an arm around his companion's shoulders, grinning at him in pure adoration. "You cannot fight amor."

"Don't tell me what to do, Sp-!" Romano started to say, only to be abruptly cut off when the spaniard leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. A blistering, furious blush immeadiately shot up the Italien's cheeks, his amber eyes widening in surprise. What the hell was he doing, pulling something like that in a place where everyone could see them!

"See, mi poco de tomate?" Spain whispered as he slowly withdrew, his eyes shining brightly. "Even you can't resist amor."

The old woman behind them grunted out a word that sounded uncannily similar to 'bag', though with more of an f sound at the beginning rather than a b...

Romano twisted around completely in his seat, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Say that again old lady and I'll make sure my mafia stuffs your fat-ass into a body bag and tosses you into the canals!"

"Lovi!" Spain scolded, green eyes wide. "We should respect the elderly!"

Of course, that only ended up earning him a good smack at the back of his head as well.

"господин Prussia, could you please not`" the Russian's eyes widened when he felt the albino's tongue trace a particularly large vein running through his neck, his already rigid spine somehow managing to get stiffer. He understood that Prussia was experienced, and that he was only showing him how to pleasure Matvey, but was this really nessisary? It made Ivan feel as though he were cheating on the sweet little blonde, even though really he was only doing this to improve their relationship.

"What?" the albino asked innocently, tilting his head almost completely horizontal and clapsing his lips down on the other man throat, his lips wrapping around his Adam's Apple. "I'm only showing you how to make Birdie feel special." he started to sucked at the hard mound, his moist tongue gently prodding the smooth skin. His fiery eyes closed, unable to help but enjoy this a little. He and Hungary had been unofficial for awhile now, and lately she had been ignoring him. Since they weren't really a couple and she hadn't really seemed interested in doing anything with him other than talking (typical woman), he had figured that she wasn't ready to be out of the friend-zone. So it was okay to be doing this to Ivan... right? After all, a few drunken kisses and then occasional hug didn't mean they were dating... did it?

He tried not to think about it; it only made him feel strangely guilty. Better to focus on the task at hand.

Canada wished he had thought to bring his hockey stick, like Hungary had brought her frying pan. How... how could Gilbert do this to him! The two were close friends who had bounded over their mutual love for pancakes and maple! There weren't many bonds stronger than that!

And... then there was Ivan. Yes, he knew he boyfriend could be phycotic and scary and just downright insane, but... that didn't stop Canada from loving him. Ivan was also caring and protective, and although he sometimes sat on him, Matthew never would have guessed that his Russian was the type to cheat. Especially not with his _best friend_. Besides! The two hated each other, didn't they! They had only recentky begun acting civil toward eachother for the Canadian's own sake... Or maybe, after all this time, their mutual loathing could have been from (as Papa France would put it) unexpressed sexual tensions.

The blonde jumped when he felt something tickle his cheek, turning his head sharply just in time to see Hungary latch onto him tightly, hugging him for all she was worth. "I'm sorry," she managed to say through clenched teeth, obviously doing the best she could be hold back tears. "If I had known that Gilbert was capable of something like this..." she felt her throat tighten, a silent sob caught there somewhere. "Then I would have beaten him to death with my frying pan before he ever could have ruined your relationship too..."

Canada shook his head, giving the girl a gentle squeaze. "No, Hungary. If Ivan was really like this, than this day would have come no matter what." he took a deep breath. "I'm... really glad I found out before things got too serious between Ivan and I. That only would have made things harder."

"Do you see that, Iggy!" America asked incredulously, gripping the britt's arm in a painfully tight grasp. "That bastard commie is totally cheating on my little bro! Dude is just asking for another Cold War!"

"Oh calm down, would you, you bloody wanker?" England scoffed, growing increasingly agitated. "Hastily rushing into situations is how you get caught up in so many wars! Really, you could learn a thing or two from Switzerland."

Alfred turned his head, scowling defiantly. "Sure, sure. But I always end up winning those wars, anyway."

"Not quite." England smirked slightly. "Might I remind you of the Vietnam Wa-"

America hastily shoved his fingers into his ears. "LALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" that was unfortunate for him, because he also didn't heard England's warning before the woman sitting behind them stuck him hard over the head ith her purse.

Japan pressed a fingertip to his lips, making a quiet "hm" noise.

Greece stirred at his side, slowly lifting his head from his shoulder. "What is it, Kiku?" he asked, looking at the japanese man questioningly, very slowly reaching up to stroke a peice of black bangs out of the dark brown eyes.

"Its nothing, its just..." Japan sighed and shook his head. "There are a lot of conflicting emotions in this atmosphere, especially for such a small theatre."

Greece nodded thoughtfully, though he was really still too tired to process what his boyfriend had said. He couldn't help it- movie theatres were dark and the dark reminded him of sleep. He liked to sleep. So, Heracles settled for saying the most generic thing that came to mind, "Yeah... I like cats too." he mumbled before laying his head back down on the smaller man's shoulders and happily drifting off into sleep once more.

There was shuffling in the darkest corner of the room, then:

"Ow! You stepped on my foot, aru!"

Then there was silence, before a second voice spoke up. "... China?"

Yao squinted through the darkness, his eyes widening in recognition. "Turkey?" he asked.

More silence. Then, all at once, the two said in unison:

"What are you doing here?... Spying on Greece and Japan's date!"

If any more countries arived, they could easily make this place their new World Conference Room.

**Translations:**

mi poco de tomate- my little tomato

господин- mister (I wasn't sure how to have Ivan adress him)

**And I don't own Hetalia…. Such a shame… Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be up soon, I promise!**

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Russia was really wondering if it was possible for him to kill himself right now.

Granted the movie hadn't been that bad... Well, aside from Prussia's near constant attempts to rape him in his seat. At least the movie itself had provided a slight distraction from the Prussian's attentions, and the dark atmosphere of the theater had been useful in hiding his embarrassed blush. Now though...

Well, now Russia was wondering how much more he could take before he snapped.

Prussia grinned at the obvious discomfort on the other country's face and leaned his elbows against the table, his pale chin cradled in one of his slim white hands. "You doing okay, Russia?"

Russia rolled his eyes and looked away from the ex-nation's red gaze, his violet eyes combing across the restaurant that they had entered almost ten minutes ago, searching desperately for a distraction... Or a knife to stab himself with...

"Is this really necessary?" The Russian grumbled. "Surely a movie would have been enough, da? Matvey and I normally eat at home anyways..."

Prussia shook his head and made a slight 'tsk' noise, looking extremely amused at the moment.

"Come on, commie," he crooned. "You want to make Birdie feel special, right? Imagine how happy he'll be after you take him to this fancy restaurant after such a romantic movie!"

"But Matvey likes simpler things... Couldn't I take him to something less..." Torturous? Formal? Downright annoying? "Well, something less like this?"

"Nope," Prussia argued cheerfully. He glanced carefully out of the corner of his red eyes, his gaze immediately catching sight of Canada's bright blonde head. He knew that the Canadian would follow them... Wait a second, who was that brown-haired chick with him? It looked a little like Hungary... Prussia shook his head and turned back to the Russian, immediately pushing the thought out of his mind. Nah, Hungary wasn't here... She didn't even have a Facebook, so she couldn't possibly know about his 'date' with Russia. Well, unless Canada had told her... But no, Canada wouldn't do that... would he?

"Why are we still following them?" Canada mumbled dejectedly, his eyes locked helplessly on the two light haired countries sitting a few tables away from them.

Hungary shrugged, her grip tightening around the handle of the frying pan that she had somehow managed to smuggle into the fancy Italian restaurant.

"I want to make sure that I see everything that albino dirt bag does so I can kill him for it later," she growled, her green eyes flashing with the promise of vengeance. She hesitated for a moment and glanced over at the Canadian, her eyes softening. "You don't have to watch, if you don't want to. I'll understand if you want to leave."

Canada shook his head stubbornly, still unable to tear his eyes away from the two men that were steadily breaking his heart. "N-no, I'll stay," he muttered firmly. "I-I need to know what's going to happen." Even if it hurt him... hurt him so much that he could barely stand it.

Hungary nodded and turned back to the two men, her brow furrowing when she saw Prussia lean in close to the Russian, his fingers running teasingly across the edge of the taller country's cheek. That bastard... how dare he do this to her and Canada?

"H-hey, Hungary?" Canada interrupted, his tone suddenly surprised.

"Hm?" the female nation murmured, her attention still focused intently on Prussia.

"Uh, is it just me, or are Germany, Italy, Greece, and Japan here too?"

Hungary glanced up at that and followed Canada's gaze, a small smile making its way to her lips when she saw the four nations huddled around a table across the room.

"Oh," she gasped, her eyes sparkling. "How cute... Feli and Ludwig are finally going on a date together! And look at Kiku, he's so cute with Heracles... Oh, where is my camera? I need pictures..."

Canada sighed and shook his head at the Hungarian woman's fascination with yaoi. He felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Germany and the others, wondering if perhaps he should have just kept his mouth shut...

"Ve~ Thanks for taking us to this nice restaurant, Germany!" Italy said happily, his caramel eyes bright as he glanced down at the menu in front of him. "Oooh, look at all of the pasta they have here! What kind of pasta do you want, Japan? I'm thinking of some fettuccine... Oh, but the linguine is nice too... and then there's the spaghetti..."

Japan chuckled under his breath and glanced over at the Greek seated beside him. Greece was also staring at the menu, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to understand the Italian.

"... Can you understand this, Japan?" Greece murmured.

Japan shrugged and looked over Greece's shoulder, his eyes traveling down the list of dishes on the thick paper. "Sort of... When you've been around Italy as long as I have, you pick up some Italian... mostly the names of food."

"Oh..." Greece frowned at the menu once more before looking back up at Japan, his green eyes expectant. "So... what should we eat?"

"Ah..." Japan blushed, wondering if he should be flattered by the responsibility that Greece was giving him. But... what if he made a mistake and Greece didn't like the food? "What do you like, Greece-san?"

The Greek shrugged and looked back at the list that so confused him. "...Something with fish. You like fish... so do cats."

Japan smiled at his boyfriend's obsession with the felines and trailed his eyes down the menu, looking for something that involved fish.

"Ah, there's something," he murmured. The Asian lifted his arm and pointed at the item in question, the edge of his hand brushing slightly against Greece's wrist. Japan blushed and hastily lowered his arm, his brown eyes meeting the Greek's timidly as he ducked his head. "S-sumimasen," he muttered.

Greece chuckled and patted the top of Japan's head. "You're so cute, Kiku... Your hair is really soft, too. Like a cat's..."

Several tables away, Turkey and China watched the two nations over the top of their own menus, their eyes narrowed as Greece ruffled Japan's hair.

"Why is he doing that, aru?" China demanded, slightly angry. "My kid brother doesn't appreciate such an invasion of space... aru."

"Damn Greek bastard," Turkey growled, completely ignoring China's comment. "_I_ was supposed to be the one to get Japan... I mean, _I'm_ closer to him... Damn Greece... I want to be the one touching Japan's hair.."

"Hey! Were you not listening to me, aru?" China snapped. "Such invasion of space is not appropriate! How dare you consider touching my brother in that-"

"Hey, bastards! Are you going to fucking order or what?" a new voice interrupted, immediately drawing the attention of the arguing nations.

China and Turkey glanced up, their eyes widening slightly when they saw a brown-haired Italian standing by their table, a notepad clutched tightly in his hand like a weapon.

"...Romano?" Turkey guessed, a predatory smile curving his lips.

The Italian man flushed and glared at the Turk, his hands trembling ever-so-slightly.

"N-no, bastard," he growled. "I'm a fucking waiter. Now, what the hell do you want? We're busy today, unless you haven't noticed."

China glanced around at the half-empty restaurant and opened his mouth to argue, only to be cut off by Turkey as the other country hastily ordered some spaghetti. The Italian waiter nodded in slight satisfaction and hurriedly ran back into the kitchen, ignoring the other customers that were trying to get his attention.

"...How odd, aru," China muttered.

"Lovi~!" Spain cried cheerfully when Romano ran into the kitchen, slightly out of breath. "Did you see them, Lovi?"

"Yeah... don't call me that, bastard!" Romano growled, still shaken up by his run in with Turkey. "I didn't go near them... That fucking potato bastard would have known it was me, and so would Feli..."

"Hm?" Spain frowned, suddenly noticing his Lovi's unease. "What's wrong, Lovi? Did something scare you?"

"S-shut up, damn it!" Lovino shrieked. "I just ran into that Turkish bastard with China... Stupid bastards were spying on Greece and Japan... idiots..."

"Que? Turkey is here?" Antonio demanded, his green eyes darkening. The Spaniard glared at the door that lead to the rest of the restaurant, his hands twitching as if longing to wrap around the handle of a certain battle ax...  
>"Did you see Russia and Prussia?" England interrupted from his place in the corner of the kitchen (where he had been exiled by the other three in case he 'contaminated' the food). The Englishman frowned at the other countries, still slightly surprised that their plan had worked. When Romano had suggested highjacking the Italian restaurant in order to spy on their targets, England had been skeptical. After all, even if they were countries, it wouldn't be easy to take over such a respectable restaurant so quickly. Of course, he hadn't counted on Romano's influence as Southern Italy... or his power as the head of the mafia.<p>

"Yeah," Romano grumbled. "They were talking and stuff, but that's it."

"Was that commie bastard allowing Prussia to feel him up again?" America demanded. The American turned away from the stove that he had been attempting to use to make himself a hamburger, his blue eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "Damn communist... How dare he cheat on Mattie like this?"

"I thought you didn't like Matthew and Ivan together," England pointed out calmly, his nose wrinkling in disgust when America plopped a large hamburger onto a skillet.

"Well, yeah, but... He still shouldn't be cheating on Mattie," America grumbled, his lips settling into a pout.

England rolled his eyes and turned back to Romano and Spain.

"If you want someone to spy on Italy and Germany, I can dress up as a waiter as well," he suggested calmly. "After all, my country is quite accomplished at spying..."

Romano glared at the Englishman skeptically and shrugged. "Whatever, bastard," he muttered. "But we need to disguise you... They'll be suspicious if a British person looking like you goes up to them."

England frowned, wondering where exactly this was heading. "Fine. What do you want me to do?" he asked warily, his voice trailing off when he saw the suddenly mischievous gleam in the Italian's eyes.

Five minutes later, England stomped up to a table in a neat black pencil skirt and loose white blouse, his ruffled blonde hair covered entirely by a long red-blonde wig that somehow also managed to cover his eyebrows. He glared at the four nations that occupied the table, his feet slipping slightly in the black pumps that Spain had somehow gotten his hands on.

_I'm going to kill them_, England thought furiously. He cleared his throat, trying to force his voice up a few octaves. "G-good evening, sirs. Is there anything that I can get you...?"

**Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own Hetalia. Also, sorry for the odd updating schedule for this fanfic... Hehe, yeah, still trying to work that out...**

**Anyways, thanks a lot to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited this story! You are all awesome! Keep it up please! Review!**


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